Monday Morning
by StopTheWorldImGettingDizzy
Summary: HouseCuddy. Kindasorta part two to Abandon. Feedback is much loved.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, I've written another Housefic. HouseCuddy, to be exact, because they're gorgeous and snarky and they make me happy, and really, are there better reasons to write about them? This is_sort of_a follow-up to "Abandon." If you want to read that first, it's short and can be found by clicking on my user name up there, see? I wanted to post this in two parts. Part one is significantly shorter than part two (try less than half the length), but there was really no other possible breaking point. So yeah, please review- I really appreciate feedback. Thanks, and enjoy!

Gregory House took a look at his watch as he entered his office on Monday morning. It was 10:38 AM- he was early for a Monday. Cuddy ought to be pleased about this. House had to make use of a couple of extra facial muscles to keep his customary grumpy-face in tact as he thought of a few other things that had pleased Cuddy that weekend.

House peered through the glass office wall into the adjoining room and spotted Foreman and Chase arguing over the coffee machine while Cameron read through a file. House leaned momentarily against his desk, switched his cane to his left hand and flexed the cramped fingers of his right before straightening up and crossing his office to join his team. He cleared his throat, and all three looked up.

"Good morning, children. Did you miss Daddy? Cameron, already working, good girl. Boys, you should sharpen that work ethic. Sloth is a sin. Now, who made a cup of coffee for Papa?"

Chase and Foreman rolled their eyes before returning their attentions to coffee. Cameron spoke up. "New case- eight year old boy, no history of respiratory problems. Sudden trouble breathing at school. The parents haven't arrived yet. Primary examinations couldn't explain the problem. Dr. Hanson sent it over to you, he said-"

"Gym teacher worked him too hard. He's eight, how much history could he have? Tell Hanson I'm not going to take over the cases he's too busy to handle." House glanced up and caught sight of Wilson jerking his head in the hallway, signifying that House should join him. House gave a quick nod of understanding. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm needed for an important conference down the hall. Cameron, find me a more interesting case. Chase, there's more coffee in one of these cabinets. You could try looking for it instead of wasting your time trying to persuade Foreman to give you his. Car thieves generally don't like to share."

On that note, House exited the room and made his way to the end of the hall, where Wilson was waiting with a concerned expression on his face.

"House, Cuddy never showed up for work."

"Really. What is this, the first time in twelve years? I'm completely astounded. Well, looks like a day of video games and soaps- I'd better get started if I want to take full advantage of this rare opportunity."

"Stop it, this is serious and you know it. Cuddy never misses work, she's never late, and she hasn't left early since her cousin in New York had a miscarriage three and a half years ago. If she isn't here now there must be a very good reason, and the fact that she didn't call is making me extremely worried that it's a very _bad_ reason."

"Okay, so her alarm clock broke and she overslept. Unfortunate, but easily remedied with a replacement of double-As. Should I be nice and buy her some?"

"Listen to me. I'm concerned, and you should be too."

House sighed. "Fine, so we need a differential diagnosis for a missing hospital administrator. Dr. Wilson, any ideas?"

"As a matter of fact, I was wondering if this could possibly have anything to do with the dinner on Saturday night, namely with two certain people who were suspiciously absent after about eleven o'clock. Specifically, Dr. Gregory House and Dr. Lisa Cuddy."

"Very astute observation, Dr. Wilson. And what do you think happened on Saturday night that could explain their absence, and Dr. Cuddy's subsequent failure to show up at work on Monday?"

"I was hoping that you would tell me the answer to that, Greg."

"Well, it looks like your hopes will not be fulfilled today. Tough luck. Now if you'll excuse me, Mario is waiting."

"House! If you know something about Cuddy, something you know she might be having trouble with, and you just ignore it, you are officially a world class asshole!"

"Shh! You really mustn't say such things in public, my sweet. People might guess our little secret." House began to move down the corridor away from Wilson.

"House, where are you going? House!"

"I'm leaving for a while. Make sure the kids behave while I'm gone."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Parte dos. Reviews make me a happy person, so take all of twenty-three seconds to tell me what you thought!

The ride from the hospital to the home of Lisa Cuddy took an average of thirteen minutes. Mounted on his bike, House made it in twelve. He parked a few houses down from Cuddy; he wanted to ensure the loud whirr of the engine wouldn't warn her of his arrival.

He assumed she would have removed the spare key from under the flowerpot after his little adventure a few months ago, and at the very least after Saturday night. This did not present any difficulty, however; in an act of foresight he had filched the extra she kept in a drawer by the front door during his last "visit," and apparently she had either not yet noticed or didn't suspect him, which was really terribly lax of her, he mused. However, it served his purpose beautifully. He inserted the key into the lock and let himself inside.

He paused a moment in the entranceway, listening for any sign of movement. Upon detecting none, he carefully mounted the stairs, the carpeting muffling the sound of his cane. The simple activity made his leg feel as though there were sharp rocks squeezed inside of it, but he ignored the pain, counting steps instead. Seventeen, there were seventeen. A nice prime number; House liked prime numbers. They were rebellious, they refused to cooperate. Any old composite number could be divided down, taken out of its identity, but a prime would not budge and stayed itself.

Cuddy's bedroom door challenged House. It was a light golden-brown wood and boasted a shiny doorknob. It was open a crack, but House smeared his fingers over the knob anyway to show it who was boss.

There was Lisa. She was facing House, her head half buried in the pillows. Thick brown curls, not yet tamed for the day, fell over her cheek, and she snored lightly, a small snuffle-ish sound that House found endearing in spite of himself. He made his way over to stand next to the bed, and stood gazing at her intently, letting his piercing stare break through her slumber. Sure enough, after half a minute she started awake with a short cry.

"House! How did- what are you- oh my god, what time is it?" Her eyes snapped to her clock. "Eleven o'clock! Oh my god, I have to get up, I-" She started to scramble out of bed, but House blocked her with his cane.

"Cuddy. Stop. Lie down."

"I can't _lie down_, I have to go! There are potential donors coming at two, I need to get things together for them, I can just imagine what they'll say if they get there and I haven't-" Once again she was cut off.

"Knowing you, things have been 'together' since these people first made contact with you. Two o'clock meeting, great, you have at least two hours before you have to leave."

"Are you insane? I haven't gotten to work later than 8:30 in three years."

"So clearly you deserve one morning out of a thousand. I can swear to you that the hospital is still running, even as we speak."

Cuddy took a deep breath.

"Cuddy. Talk. I can only imagine what it was like to be inside your head between Saturday night and now."

"What makes you think this has anything to do with Saturday?"

"Because I know you. Let's see, we must have fallen asleep at two-thirty. And I woke up at five o'clock to an empty bed. That leaves thirty hours unaccounted for, more or less. I'm guessing you woke up, had a panic attack, broke the speed limit getting home, and jumped right into a hot shower. First priority after fabulous sex you wish hadn't been as good as it was is getting rid of the reminders. Hot water to wash away the smell of bodily fluids, a steady stream beating down on those delicious little aches. Am I right?"

"You're a bastard, is what you are."

"I'm right, okay. So the next thing you do is work. Work work work, forget all about what you did with your hands last night by busying them with other things. Bills, phone calls, cleaning out your refrigerator. All day you keep busy, and then you go to bed. You try to fall asleep but you're having a hell of a time because even though you've made your mind forget, your body just won't let go. So you dig the sleeping meds out from the back of your bathroom cabinet and you take one, only one."

"Stop. Stop talking. Yes, I took a pill, but I set my alarm. I'm not an idiot, House. I woke up, I remember waking up. I woke up and I saw the clock and I reached over and then I…." An _oh shit_ look flashed across her face.

"Shut the alarm off and went back to sleep."

"Yeah." Cuddy let her head fall into her hands.

House sat on the bed next to her legs. "Look, I told you there'd be emotional trauma."

She looked up at him. "Yeah," she said quietly.

"It's a full package. Incredible sex, angst of pubescent proportions."

"Incredible sex, huh?"

"Best you've ever had."

She gave him a light push. "Oh really. You know that for a fact?"

"You've had at most seven sexual exploits that are on par with this one."

"Did you just say 'sexual exploits'?"

"Lisa."

She sighed. "Five. You weren't in top form that time after the bone structure exhibit, and the beach was too cold in March to really enjoy the experience."

"You know, it's a pity we only fucked each other seven times at Michigan."

"Seven _occasions_," she corrected. "As I remember, it was rarely just once at a time."

"Lisa Cuddy, always striving for accuracy. So tell me, what was our first _occasion_ like? I know you remember. You always had a sharp memory."

She was silent for a moment, then- "Trent."

"Trent. I'll always be grateful to that asshole for treating you like crap."

"Gee, thanks."

"Hey, just looking for the silver lining. I'm an optimist by nature."

She snorted.

"Come on, if he hadn't gotten wasted and abandoned you at that stupid frat party to screw Anabel Maier in his dorm, you never would have agreed to leave with me so I could screw you in yours."

"I'm glad to see you're looking on the bright side of life."

"You were better off with me anyway; Trent was a crappy lover."

"Do you know this from experience?"

"It was obvious! A guy who's so idiotic you marvel at the fact that he manages to stay upright had to be lousy in bed. And he had clumsy hands, I saw him in the lab one time. No refinement. Now take me, I have remarkably skilled hands."

"I've noticed."

"Which brings us back to Saturday."

"Which brings us back to Saturday," she sighed.

There was a short silence. Cuddy expected House to cut in with some crude and/or witty remark, but it seemed that he was planning on keeping his mouth shut for once. Great, now she had to say something.

"House? How come we stopped- all those years ago? Why was it only seven times? I mean, the sex was great, and-"

"And the conversation was great. And the fights were great and the laughs were great. Too great, Cuddy."

"Too _right_," she said softly. Then she shook her head. "Okay, this is nuts. We're sentimentalizing everything; it wasn't that simple. I had school to focus on, and you were going off somewhere to begin your career; it would have been insane to stay together. Anyway, we had barely gotten started! What was it, two months? Two and a half? We're talking like we threw away years of a relationship. House, we never had a relationship. We had a fling and that's it. It was lovely, but I'm not looking to relapse twenty years later."

"Just sex is a fling. It was never just sex with us, Lisa. You know that."

"I'm not sure what you're trying to say."

"I just want to keep the facts straight. I would hate to dismiss two unbelievable months as a _fling_."

"Okay…."

"This isn't junior high; I'm not going to 'ask you out.' I'm just saying maybe we shouldn't be so hasty to dismiss Saturday night as a fluke or a slip of judgment."

"Okay. That sounds… sensible."

"Well, I'm nothing if not that," he deadpanned. She smiled a little.

"Listen, I really should get ready. And you need to get back to work. Although if you got here at eleven that means you must have gotten to the hospital by at the latest a quarter to. Not bad for a Monday."

"Yeah, I'm sucking up to the boss. Hoping it'll get me laid again."

Cuddy laughed. "You want to brownnose me, be in the clinic by the time I get there."

"As it happens, I have a patient. Eight year old boy. Respiratory trouble. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"Fine, I'll deal with you later. I spend altogether too much time keeping you in line at the hospital; I'm not going to argue about your work ethic in my own home. Just get out of my house, please."

"Yes, dear."

"And by the way, if Wilson acts anything other than perfectly normally around me, I will personally see to it that every parent wielding a sniveling child gets sent your way."

"Aye aye, Captain Cuddy."

"House."

"Cuddy."

She sighed. "Thank you for coming here."

"Don't mention it."

"And put the key you stole back in the drawer on your way out."

"Not a chance." And with that he strode out of the room, leaving Cuddy with a small smile and a feeling that emotional trauma might be sort of fun.


End file.
